


To Give and to Receive

by blueangel



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-23
Updated: 2012-10-23
Packaged: 2017-11-16 22:15:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/544428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueangel/pseuds/blueangel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four gifts Robb Stark gave to Myrcella Baratheon and one gift she gave to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Give and to Receive

**Author's Note:**

> I literally wrote this while I was at school ( with my handy dandy notebook) and now just finished typing it up and editing it.

  1. Myrcella often wonders about that first gift. The practicality of it, that is. _‘After all, a Direwolf pup was just another mouth to feed’,_ she remembers thinking, _‘and with winter coming-‘_. But Robb had looked at her with such hope in his eyes- hope that she would like this new gift.



Hope that the marriage would work.

He had presented the pup to her in the Godswood- this big ball of black glossy fur and doe- brown eyes.

‘’ Oh.’’ She had said softly. Myrcella had lifted the pup from his arms and into her own. The little beast- snow in its fur -had licked her cheek and looked at her with loving eyes.

When she had looked at Robb that day he had relief in his eyes. ‘’ Thank you.’’ Her voice had still been soft but she had placed a hand on his cheek, still aware of the pup in her arms.

He had cleared his throat, ‘’ I’m glad you like it.’’ Once again she had been plunged into the reality of their situation. This was an arranged marriage, but long ago she had promised herself that she would not be her mother’s daughter, nor her father’s either. Myrcella had seen enough to know that bitterness in a marriage could grow from a seed into a sickness.

So she would be sweet, and perhaps- just perhaps, he would be kind as well.

 

2.Myrcella giggles at the thought of her first kiss. They had been in the glass gardens, walking side by side among the flowers when Robb had turned to her suddenly and touched her shoulder to stop her.

‘’ It occurs to me,’’ he had said, ‘’ that we are to be married.’’

Myrcella had smirked and proclaimed boldly, ‘’ I had hoped that you would be aware sooner, for I realized it-‘’ she had jumped as he had pressed his lips against hers.

Warmth had flooded and she had leaned herself against him as his lips moved against hers.

When they had broken apart, she had been sure that her face was as flushed as his was.

‘’ So is this to be a common occurrence, my lord?’’ She had licked her lips. Oh, she had been bold that day.

‘’ I hope so.’’ He had given her a dozen other kisses before they were wed, and a thousand after, but that one she would remember with perfect clarity the day they buried him beside his father.

A perfect kiss is a gift in and of itself.

 

 3. Some would think it a strange gift, but when Robb had clasped the grey and white cloak around her shoulders, he had given her the gift of freedom.

While Kingslanding had always been her home, she had been suffocating there. Myrcella had only known her father as a drunken man with a crown on his head who spoke loud and often- just not to her.

Her mother she had known as the beauty- an untouchable thing that praised her for her golden hair and green eyes- and for her wit.

‘’ If only you had been born a man, ‘’ her mother once said, ‘’ you would have been a magnificent Prince.’’

And her brothers……

Joffrey was often cruel, but she had been taught from an early age that he was to be king one day and so his whims were to be tolerated, but he was unlike any king or prince she had read of.

‘’ He is mad.’’ She had whispered to Jamie once when she had been young. Jamie had looked at her with sad eyes and had warned her in soft words never to say that again- especially in front of her mother.

And Tommen, her sweet brother. Her innocent, sweet as honeyed milk brother, who had given her a new kitten for her nameday, and had given her bunches of flowers to put in her hair.

She had loved him best.

But not even Tommen could stave off the loneliness that she felt. Myrcella was a princess, and no matter how lonely she may have been- no matter how sad- she could not show it.

Not even Ser Arys could be privy to her tears.

So really when Robb had unclasped the gold and scarlet cloak, (because mother had insisted it be Lannister colors), he had unburdened her of a lifetime of loneliness.

 

 4. Myrcella, on that particular day, had used the last of her tears, and had then just lain on her bed- waiting to die, be set aside, or sent away- she had not known.

The truth of her parentage had come to light and it had left her with nary a friend to offer her comfort.

‘’ I didn’t know.’’ She had begged Robb, ‘’ please, I didn’t know.’’ But he had looked at her as if she were a stranger, as if he had not touched and kissed every part of her, and she him. As if she had never made him laugh, or he had never confided his fears to her.

As if he had never loved her.

She had fallen asleep from exhaustion only to be wakened hours later to see him sitting beside her.

Myrcella had sat up, ‘’ Husband, ‘’ she had said evenly,’’ have you come to tell me I’m going to die?’’

His fists had clenched and his mouth had gone into a tight line when he had finally looked at her, ‘’ I could never take your life- I could never live with myself if I did.’’

‘’ Then you shall send me away?’’ Yes, she had expected him to say. Yes, - so that I shall never have to look upon your face again.

Instead he had let out a choked bark of a laugh. ‘’ No. You have been my wife too long- you are too loved by the north, ‘’ more softly he had said, ‘’ and I do not think I could love anyone else. I wouldn’t know how.’’ She had leaned into his arms then.

‘’ I would not know how to love anyone else either.’’ Relief had flooded through her as she had climbed onto his lap and wrapped her arms around him.

That day he had given her the gift of her life, when lesser men would have had her pay for her parent’s sins in blood.

 

  1. Myrcella had given birth to a daughter- beautiful and fierce, and Robb dotted on her; taking her away from her septa and nurse to give her treats and kisses- carrying her around Winterfell in his arms.



Yet her winter babe had been taken away by the cold winds.

Robb never asked anything of her, never faulted her, but she could see the longing in his eyes as he watched the steward’s children- heard their laughter.

So when Danearys Targaeryn had commanded her husband to stand with her against the Lannisters and the Tyrell’s she had known that it had been her last chance- their last chance.

She had snuck in his chambers the night before he was due to leave and watched with a sort of smugness as he had become undone beneath her, and she had prayed to the gods old and new that if they were to take him from her- to at least leave a piece of him on this earth with her.

Day after day she would visit the sept and pray for her husband’s return. Myrcella was no fool though, to pray for his return was to pray for her family’s downfall.

So perhaps it was fitting that the day of Rickon’s birth she had received the news of her family’s demise.

The gods were cruel in that way.

 But when she presents Rickon to Robb, winter is about to break, yet she had wrapped her son in an extra blanket just in case.

And as he holds their son, a smile growing on his face, her heart had felt as if it had gone into her throat.

This is her gift to him, this green-eyed, Tully haired boy who would one day become lord of Winterfell.    

 


End file.
